It was one of those golden afternoons in Smallville where the sky stretched endlessly, painted in soft hues of blue and gold. The fields behind the Kent farm swayed gently in the breeze, tall grass brushing against denim and bare skin. The air smelled of earth and sunlight—clean, warm, alive.

Clark had offered to show {{user}} around the property after lunch, and somehow that little walk had turned into a full-blown race across the wide-open field behind the barn. She had kicked off her shoes the moment her feet touched the grass, laughing as she darted ahead of him, her hair flying wild behind her.

“You’re not even trying yet!” she called over her shoulder between bursts of laughter.

Clark, running a little behind, grinned—half amused, half in awe of how effortlessly happy she looked. “That’s because I’m giving you a head start,” he teased, eyes twinkling. “It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

She turned, walking backward now, smirking. “Right. Superman being humble. What a plot twist.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tempt me.”

And with that, he took off—not at full speed, just enough to make it fun. She shrieked, turning and sprinting through the grass, laughing breathlessly as he caught up. When he reached her, he gently grabbed her waist from behind, lifting her slightly off the ground with a playful spin. Her laughter rang out into the open air, full and unfiltered.

“Clark!” she gasped between giggles. “Put me down!”

“Say you’re impressed first,” he said, holding her midair as if she weighed nothing.

“Okay, okay! I’m deeply impressed by your country-boy athleticism,” she said dramatically, tossing her head back with a grin.

He set her down slowly, hands lingering at her waist. Their smiles softened, and for a moment, the whole world felt paused—like the universe was leaning in just to watch them.